


Awkward Kindness

by ForestFox



Series: The future in your words. [12]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: First Meetings, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-26 05:46:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2640308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForestFox/pseuds/ForestFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To all good parties the sad drunk will stumble through. It's only a travesty if no one is there to sooth their broken hearts. </p><p>Consider this if you will. </p><p>Why would you swim at the bottom of a bottle when there is happiness to be had?</p><p>Note: This is another flashback chapter. So established Blackice no real Jackrabbit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awkward Kindness

Jack wandered through the party bored of out his mind. He felt naked in these clothes, but it was his first official function in the King’s entourage. So he really did have to tough it out and make a grand show of it. Some ball for some princess whose name he couldn’t even pronounce. All the nearby kingdoms were coming to visit, flaunting their eligible children and consolidating power in only the way royals could.

With a birthday party big enough to start a revolt.

He turned away from the noise and the chatter of voices, slipping out the door of the grand hall into the dimmer hallways. Some feathered monstrosity’s birthday was today, she was sixteen and the only crowned princess to the Aeris Kingdom. She was pretty to look at certainly, but Jack had never found women all that attractive. She was pretty yes, soft on the eyes certainly, but enough for him fawn over? No.

The whole party had gone up in a roar of joy when the princess had fluttered in, the star of the party. But Jack couldn’t help but let his eyes wander. From his handsome King arm in arm with his wife the Queen, the handsome soldiers guarding them, and the exotic royals from other kingdoms next to them mingling. Even the mighty pookas were there, though they rarely bred outside of their own race, so their presence was friendly at best. Their own heir apparent was still a baby. He was curious to see the child, was a baby pooka cuter than its adult counterparts?

“Party too dull for you?” A voice broke him from his musing. Looking up he saw a polished pooka, gray and blue fur blended together reminding him faintly of snow. He also didn’t miss the nearly empty glass in his paw and the odd glazed look in his brilliant green eyes.

“You’re out here too.” Jack grinned, resting his shoulder on the wall, doing his best to artfully cross his arms. He needed to practice at all times to be a better concubine. He watched in silence as the pooka looked him over. Surprisingly there was no trace of venom in his stare, but he didn’t miss the interest he saw flash there. He saw it often enough in the King’s own stare.

“Dressed like a King’s bed mate, talks like a commoner, are you one of the servants dressed up for the party?” The pooka walked towards him unsteadily on his feet. He made no move to leave as the pooka stopped in front of him, the stench of a strong drink on his lips reminding Jack to be on his guard. Drunk royalty was never a good thing. “Look at you… not a servant… you were brought here to be seen… look at you.” The pooka stated, pointing with his free paw to the translucent silks he wore.

Clearing his throat he tightened his arms over his chest, trying to fight the heat on his face. He felt a paw touch one of his nearly hidden wrists. “Let me see your hands… how finely where you made up?” Though he didn’t want to give up his secure position he loosened his arms and let a hand be taken into a soft paw. A pooka that didn’t have worn down paw pads, they were surprisingly soft, a sign he was not the working class.

“You poor thing,” His voice slurred as he trailed a claw over each ring. One on each finger, some set with large diamonds and black stones. “Fine jewelry that doesn’t suit you at all, you are so pale- dressing you like this… you are a thing to someone. I don’t understand your human customs at all.” Jack shivered, feeling those sad eyes peeling him naked with a glance. He already knew he had been dressed in the dark silks because he was so pale. Very little was left to the imagination and the translucent fabric on his chest exposed it all. He still wasn’t used to being so revealed in public. Linens and rare cottons were his favorite fabrics of choice, but it was not how a concubine dressed!

“He loves me.” He muttered, looking down at the paw still tenderly holding his hand.

The pooka shook his head, “No he doesn’t. But- you are beautiful and if you can keep him from bedding you all the time …. Perhaps he will love you. I can only hope that for you.”

Jack jerked his hand free, feeling his eyes burn with tears. “He does love me! We’re meant to be together, I know it.”

The pooka’s paw went up to stroke his face gently. “I’ve been in love and what your master is doing to you is not love. I sincerely hope you find it. Such a beautiful creature such as yourself deserves it…” His slurred words were stunning. For a brief moment Jack was certain he might have felt a beat of his heart give itself up to this pooka. But he was just a royal! A drunk royal saying sweet things to his pretty face. It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last. It was part of the reason his looks had gotten him this far. He was simply too gorgeous to pass up.

Silently he reminded himself not to tell this pooka off without first knowing what position he actually held in his kingdom. It would do no good to mock a duke or a lord. But the sudden lurch the pooka gave stopped all thought, his paw quick to drop the cup and catch himself on the wall as he tipped over. Jack stood there as the pooka’s stomach emptied itself in disgusting heaves, the smell of food and liquor filling the air. With a whimper, feeling the wetness on slippers, he reminded himself not to look down. Expensive tiles or not he did not want to see what was touching his feet.

“I’m sorry,” The pooka huffed, “I’m sorry.” He repeated mindlessly as he gave another loud heave. Jack stood still not sure what he was supposed to do, he had not been trained for being treated terribly like this. He did remember that his father told him to be a good person. And while he didn’t think all that great of royals, it was clear that this one was ill on spirits. He’d help the drunk pooka if he needed it, he supposed.

“I’ve ruined your slippers… please… let me make it up to you.” Well that was new. Jack actually leaned down to help the pooka stand up straight. He didn’t trust himself to question his kindness, only to follow his father’s wise words.

“Can I help you to your room?” He offered, wondering what would happen to the poor pooka if he had been left alone. The apology and promise to correct his ruin shoes were forgotten quickly. He let the drunk pooka hook an arm around his shoulders and together they hobbled down the halls. He didn’t even protest when the poor pooka asked him to help him into bed. The drunk was snoring soundly before Jack had even crept out of the room.

-

Jack smiled, rubbing his hair dry. A regular bath was something he always treasured now that he was being kept. The soft robes and sweet smelling soaps were almost as nice. Just being clean was its own perk. He strolled back into his private room and paused with a frown. On his bed was a box, simple in nature with green paper and a white note folded on top of it.

He looked around, confused for a moment. Usually the King preferred to lavish gifts on him in person, this was largely impersonal. He quickly crossed the room and snapped up the note in a flash.

_I can only hope the servants get this to the right stunning and nameless beauty with white hair. I hope there aren’t many of you. I truly am sorry for ruining your shoes. I’m sure I got you in trouble. But in return for your kindness as you were not required to mind me to bed, you are no servant of mine, I have replaced what I have damaged. It might not be much to your people, but they are very fair footwear to my own people. It will keep your feet safe. It’s meant to be wrapped around your feet, so it should fit you even if they were meant for a pooka._

_-Aster_

“Are you insane? Jack you cannot!” His mentor rushed towards him. Quickly he stuff the note into his robes hoping his wet skin wouldn’t ruin the note.

“Can’t what?” He asked, turning to face the red haired beauty. She was barely dressed, a towel covering her breast, but she had been a part of Pitch’s ladies for years now. It was expected he supposed.

“Cannot what, learn to speak you village idiot. Burn that now.” She declared, pointing accusingly at his unopened package.

“No, it’s mine! It was a gift.” He argued, reaching over his bed to grab the box. But as with everything in regards to his mentor she was better and faster. She snatched up the box, stepping away from him.

“A concubine does not accept gifts from other suitors. The only things we ever accept are from the King, anything else is to be refused unless you want the King to see your head roll. You must never let him doubt your affections.” She insisted, turning to the modest fireplace keeping his room warm.

“But- I haven’t even looked at it. What’s inside?” He wanted to know what footwear this Aster had given him. The other cultures fascinated him.

“Resist temptation.” She snapped, throwing the box into the fire. “You haven’t even spread your legs for his majesty yet. You don’t have the standing nor enough of his affections to be playing these games. In the future, when you have been properly bedded you can accept these gifts if for only a display to his majesty as you destroy them. That is the only way you might accept a gift. Now get ready, in the silver silks, we are to follow the King through the courtyard as he speaks with his Lordship of the Far North. People are here for more than just the Princess’s birthday.”

Jack made no fuss as his mentor left. He merely stared into the fire watching as the box and its contexts was consumed. He reached into his robe to look at the note again. The paper crumbled in his hands too wet to open. No doubt it had been written on fine stationery not meant to get wet. He had nothing left from this mysterious royal Aster who had been sweet to him. He was wrong about Pitch certainly, but he had been sweet and fair. Treated him like the people he had grown up with.

In silence he turned away, not wanting to watch his gift turned to cinders. Well, it was the action that he could remember, and the name. At least he had gotten to read the name before it had all been lost.

 ****  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Getting to the end. Hope you all enjoying the flashbacks. I hope they are enriching the story just that much for you. And yes for those of you wondering. Aster doesn't remember his and Jack's first meeting. Or at least that it was Jack and that will be covered as to why at a later date. (other than the obvious drinking)


End file.
